


The Other Side: Quarantine

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [31]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chair Sex, Croatoan Virus (Supernatural), F/M, Plague, Sweet Dean Winchester, Vaginal Sex, Vaginismus, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26416468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Okay so I retired these two a few years ago. Recent events and some requests from friends inspired me to fill in some missing time in between the events of The Other Side. Set during the Croatoan Virus.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Other Side Series [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/712527
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	The Other Side: Quarantine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Domino Darkwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Domino+Darkwolf).



Carrie's cell beeped loudly as she sat curled up at the foot of her bed. She'd gotten the call earlier that she'd been exposed to the virus at work. The one that had locked down half the country and left most of the citizens who knew how serious it was terrified. 

She picked up the cell and looked at the message. With his usual uncanny intuition, it was Dean. 

_ How's my girl? _

Carrie swiped her eyes with the back of her arm and texted back: 

_ Terrible _ .

The phone rang several minutes later. She answered it with a trembling lip, blankets pulled up around her, even though it was summer. 

"Hello?" Her voice sounded filled up. 

"What's wrong?" He was efficient, to the point--that military side she'd only caught in glimpses. 

"I got a call from work that I've been exposed to the virus going around." She swallowed. "Several staff members have it and…" she took a steadying breath. "Dean, I'm really scared."

"Where are you?" He asked in a clipped tone, still sounding like he was in problem solving mode. It escalated her anxiety a notch. 

She took another breath. "M… my apartment. I have to quarantine for a week."

He snorted. "Hardly a place to quarantine. You live on a crowded freaking block." 

"I know." Her hand shook a little. She couldn't keep the tremulous note out of her voice. "Dean, you're not helping. I'm already freaked out. I know I work in Healthcare... but it's in urology. This is just... I never volunteered to be on the front lines of a fucking plague!" She let out a little repressed sob. "I feel so trapped."

"Don't freak out." He told her.

"Of course I'm freaking out! I know too much about it to not freak out!"

"Too much and not enough," he said, calmly. "Look, sweetheart, I can be there in about 12 hours."

"You can't come!" She replied in horror, visions of her making Dean gravely ill flitted through her mind. “I don't want you to catch it either! ...I'm just fucking scared." 

What little shred of reserve she had broke and Carrie started to sob in earnest. 

His tone softened. "Carrie. Baby, listen to me."

She reined it in for a minute, her breath hitching. 

"Get in the car. Drive out to our cabin. I'll meet you there and we can hole up for a few weeks."

She considered it, snuffed a little. "But if I get sick we'll be in the middle of nowhere and I might make you sick…"

"Don't worry about me. I'm gonna be fine and the middle of nowhere is exactly where we want to be for the next few weeks. Trust me." There was a surety to his voice. 

"But what about Sam?" 

He snorted. "Do I want to be holed up with my little brother for the next few weeks or a hot girl? Do the math, Care."

The idea that she could infect Dean played like a broken record through her mind. Dean breathless, pale, fevered. Dying. “But I could make you…”

“You won't.” He said it with such authority it gave her pause. “And if you did get sick you'd want me there with you. Trust me." He paused. " _ Trust me _ .” 

She looked around her apartment and stayed silent.. 

“Take the stuff you have that you need and get out there. I'll meet you.” 

She sniffed and wiped her nose with her shirt sleeve. She knew she really shouldn't. She should stay isolated. But she was so fucking scared. 

“Okay,” she said. 

  
  


Dean's smile made her heart twist when he entered the door to the little cabin in the woods where they held their rendezvous. He was in his over-sized leather jacket, carrying several bags in his hand and a green duffel slung over one shoulder. 

She'd never been happier to see anyone in her life. 

"Hey, babe." He said in his resonant baritone. 

He barely had time to drop the bags on the floor before she had her arms around him, holding onto him as hard as she could. 

“Hey,” he said, bending over a bit from her weight around his neck and returning the hug, his warmth sheltering her. 

She felt like crying again, clung to him. He rocked her gently side to side, rested his chin on top of her head for a moment. 

"It's okay." He soothed. "I'm here."

“Dean, I'm just…” 

“I know. It's scary. I get it.” He brushed his lips against the crown of her head. 

Carrie took a deep breath and the smell of him calmed her. Leather and outdoors and old spice. “It's gonna get bad,” she told him. “There's so much of the virus infecting people already. We don't even know the extent yet.” 

He took a breath and she felt his ribcage expand under her arms. “It's gonna get bad." He told her. "But Sam and I got it.” 

She pulled away a little. “You have the virus?” 

He shook his head. There was no trace of joking in his expression. “No. We've stopped the source but it's gonna burn through the population for a few months.” 

“You stopped the what?” She was used to crazy shit with his job, although he opted to keep nearly everything secret, but this was new batshit sounding territory. 

“It’s complex.” He paused. Sighed. “It's demonic. The CDC is barking up the wrong tree, but we can’t tell  _ them _ that. It's why it's not behaving normally and no one understands the genetic sequence.”

Carrie tried to wrap her head around that. “What the fuck?” 

He looked down at her. "I'll protect you. Let's just wait it out, baby. There's me, you, this cabin, lots of lube.” 

She was still reeling too much to process the joke. “What if I have it?” 

“Hey, look. We can't control that. Okay? My dad always taught me to fix what you can at this minute. Deal with the other shit as it comes. We're prepared for what might happen and now we just gotta focus on what we can control in the now... And that's us. And food. Cause I'm hungry.” 

Carrie still didn't feel like she could pull herself together. She nodded but Dean read her misery and reached a hand out to cup her face. The gesture was tender. 

She wondered where he had learned to be so nurturing when he'd been absent any maternal figure in his life. 

“Care, I'm right here. I'm gonna be right with you, okay?” 

She nodded and swallowed hard, feeling like a child, then got it together. “What do you want to eat?” 

He gave her his grin. The one that made crinkles at the corner of his eyes. “That's my girl.” 

* * *

Carrie ran a hand over Dean's back. He lay on his stomach, breathing regularly. She traced over the shoulder blades, feeling the muscle and bone under his cotton T shirt. 

The lake was quiet and still. The grass was soft and warm under her knees. "Thank you for coming out here with me." She said. 

"Hey, it's gonna be a naughty, fun summer camp." His voice was dark with promise. 

He hadn't pounced on her like he had a tendency to do after so much time apart. He'd eaten food, saw she was still anxious and talked her into coming out on a hike with him to calm her down. It had worked. Feeling the earth below her, sun on her skin, and lazily petting Dean grounded her. 

"You ever go to summer camp?" She asked. 

He turned his head and squinted at her, one eyebrow cocked. "Long time ago, baby. Got in lots of trouble with the camp counselors. The fun kind of trouble."

"How old were you?"

He thought for a minute. "Pretty young. Bout fifteen I think. After that I spent summers huntin with m'dad."

"You were seducing camp counselors at fifteen?" She asked, rubbing his shirt between her fingers absently. The fabric was warm. 

"Well yeah, what else am I gonna do? Make macaroni frames?"

"I figured an older camp would be like learning survival skills."

"Sex is a survival skill."

She laughed. 

His lip curled into a derisive sneer. "Camp was a joke. Had us learning shit I knew at seven. Couple of the girls in charge got to teach me a few things though."

She didn't say anything. 

He rolled over to look up at her, squinting in the light. "Somethin wrong?"

"How old were the counselors?"

He frowned. "Twenties. I don't know. Why?"

"That's statutory rape." 

He snorted. "I was a willing participant. Besides, probably got more out of the deal since I had no clue what I was doing. She taught me a lot." He smirked. "I was an eager student. Earned my merit badge."

Carrie shook her head and relaxed. "I bet you did."

He beamed at her, all 1,000 watt smile, dazzling in his beauty. 

"Do you have any idea how handsome you are?" She asked.

"So I've been told." He replied. 

"All the girls tell you you're pretty, huh?"

His mood changed and Dean visibly bristled. "I'm not pretty."

She shook her head. "You're pretty."

He scowled, the light glinting off his pouty full lips and high cheekbones. 

"That's a compliment, silly." Carrie said, still in awe of his looks.

"Like hell it is. No guy wants to be friggin pretty."

Carrie didn't quite understand the offense he'd taken. She paused and something clicked. "You've heard it from other men, haven't you?"

Dean's look grew a little wary. "Yeah. The kind that want to bend me over in an alley way."

She bit her lip. No wonder he was touchy about it. The kind of places he'd been brought up in, his looks must have been downright dangerous at times. "I never thought about you having to deal with that."

He waved it off. "I know how to handle myself. Assholes are all talk. I rearrange their face and I'm not such an easy target anymore."

"You strike me as anything but an easy target."

"Damn right." Something about the subject had broken his mood. 

She touched his cheek, trying to bolster him back up. "Ok, then you are so handsome."

He took a breath, clearly willing to accept the olive branch. "That's better." He turned his head to kiss her wrist and then pulled her down onto the grass and rolled her under him in one smooth action. 

She gave a surprised squeal. He still always managed to shock her with how quickly he could move. "How do you do that?" She asked. 

He put his knee between her thighs and lowered himself to kiss her neck. Her body arched up against him and he pushed down into her. She felt her heart speed up. 

"I'm trained in how to take down people," he said against her neck. "I can put you in any position I want before you even know what I'm doing." 

He emphasized his point by pressing his body weight against her. She felt small under him.

He locked his lips onto her neck and sucked the skin along the lines of her tendon. Her arms went around his broad shoulders. He was warm and vital and powerful and so fully alive. So Dean. 

He stayed latched onto her until she wondered if she was going to have a hickey and then dragged his tongue under her ear. She sighed and rolled her head sideways, submitting to his attentions, letting her body melt into the carpet of grass. He dropped further down letting his thigh press between her legs. She moaned. 

"I love that sound." He whispered into her ear. The warmth of his breath sent a chill through her skin and set it goosepimpling. His broad shoulder almost entirely blocked out the view of the canopy of trees above them. She ran her hands down his arms and he rewarded her with a soft hum. 

Dean shifted, kissing her and simultaneously undoing his belt with one hand. 

Carrie pushed at him a little. "Dean. Can we just...make out?"

He arrested his movement and blinked. Clearly taken aback. "Somethin wrong?"

She shook her head. "I'm...I just…" she was actually a little scared but she didn't know how to tell him that. "Can we try later?"

Dean rolled off of her. "Yeah." He took a few breaths to steady himself. It was a visible effort for him to switch gears, but he did without complaint. "Okay." He laid down next to her, reached down to adjust himself with a grunt. "They don't make enough room in men's pants."  


Carrie leaned over to kiss him, felt tender and grateful that she could put the brakes on at any time and he listened. "You know my Dad warned me to stay away from the Winchester boy. He was so wrong.”

That caught his interest. “He did?”

“Yeah, said John Winchester’s kids were trouble.”

Dean’s expressive face didn’t conceal any of the hurt defiance he felt under the surface. “Heard that all my life,” he said. “That’s nothin’ new.”

“Hey,” she rubbed the back of his neck with her fingers. “He was wrong, you know. You’re a good man.”

“I’m a hero,” he said. “Sam and me. We’re heroes.”

She didn’t know who he was trying to convince. She brushed her hand over his cheekbone and he closed his eyes at the tenderness. “I know you are. You've got nothing to prove to me, Winchester Boy."  


* * *

  
  
  


Dean hooked his finger into the rear belt loop of Carrie's jeans and gave a tug. She stumbled back a few feet until the back of her knees collided with Dean's and she fell on her ass onto his lap. The wooden chair gave an ominous little creak. They'd only been back at the cabin for a few hours and predictably Dean's mind had gone back to its usual groove.  


"Dean!"

He nuzzled her hair and wrapped his arms around her. 

"I can feel you worryin from over there. Quit doing that." His voice behind her was smoky, baritone. 

He was correct. She'd barely touched her dinner and even with Dean with her, she didn't feel well. 

Despite that,  _ he _ felt good. Warm and solid and strong. She held tight to the arm wrapped around her chest. 

"Get it off your mind and enjoy hanging out with me."

"I'm scared." She told him. 

"Don't be." He said into her ear. He kissed her lobe. "Don't be." 

Carrie didn't reply as he brushed her mane of blonde curls off to one side and gently kissed her neck, slowly, softly. The barest press of his full lips against her skin. 

"I've got you baby. I'm right here."

She reached behind her and ran her fingers through his soft brown hair while he stayed with his head bowed and mouth against the tendon near the side of her throat. 

His arm tightened on her waist and pulled her tighter against him, her ass snug to his hip. She had to reach her foot down for balance. 

"You're good baby. I got ya." His hand slid across her waist and up to cup her breast. 

She stiffened in his arms slightly, some weird nervous impulse fighting to the surface briefly. He felt it, like he felt so many of her moods, and moved his hand back down to her waist. "You okay?" He asked against her skin. 

His warm breath sent goosebumps pimpling up her arms. 

She shifted on his lap, tried to turn her head a little to see him. "Yeah it's just… it's been a while... I'm nervous." 

"See, that's the difference between us. It's been a while for you, you get scared. It's been a while for me, I get horny."

He nudged behind her ear with his nose again. 

She gave a snort laugh. 

"Just relax." His hand drifted down her belly, paused to pop the button with his thumb, and then moved down to rest on the inside of her jean clad thigh. He pulled her leg open a little and Carrie's heart sped up. 

Dean always did this to her, despite herself. He was gentle, but persistent, patient, but take charge. Even when she started out hesitant about the whole venture, he seemed able to rouse her. 

He grazed his thumb over her nipple and exhaled with her as she moaned. He kept teasing, ducking his head back down to kiss her neck, while his other hand on her thigh massaged into the muscle there. Carrie went boneless and sagged into him, the heat creeping into her cheeks. 

She pushed her weight back into him and she could feel the hardness of his erection against the cheek of her ass. Dean gave a low growl that made her womb give a little spasm of pleasure. "Take your pants off, baby."

His hands left for a second and she caught her balance, panting, her head abuzz with want, while she heard him shift to free himself from his pants. 

Carrie stood up on weak legs and unzipped her fly. She'd barely wiggled out of them before his hands were on her hips, pulling her backwards. 

This time their bare thighs slapped together when she went down into his lap. Her one leg tangled between his. His thighs were warm and powerful and so was his chest as he tugged her backwards onto him. "Come here, Care." 

He pulled her thigh open again so that she was straddling him and shifted beneath her to get a good angle. 

"Bend forward, baby." 

She placed her hands on his knees as he attempted to guide himself into her. The tip of his penis made her body spasm and she bit her lip with a cry. 

"Easy." He shifted his angle again. "You're so tight, baby." He waited, panting until he felt that first involuntary clench of her muscles ease and then he slid inside of her with a warm delicious stretch that took her breath. 

Her pelvic floor clamped down at the invasion. He was used to the response by now and he stayed still inside her until her body adjusted to his girth, then started to grind into her. 

Thoughts of anything but herself and him dissolved with his movement, Dean reeling her into the moment as he always did. 

He kept a slow gentle grind until she pushed her weight down onto him, and he choked down a groan. His hands went to her hips and he held her steady as he worked into her, his movement a little restricted by the chair. 

Carrie leaned forward with a cry and Dean responded a little more forcefully, his hands moved to her breasts, and he pulled her back into a fully seated position. He shifted his weight, tugged down and sank himself to the hilt. 

Carrie cried out with startled pleasure. His mouth found the back of her neck again and his panting breaths against her skin sent a shiver running through her. 

"Dean," she whispered, feeling alternately tight and then boneless, heart racing, sweating in the close confines of the cabin. 

His fingers drifted between her legs and he gently circled her swollen sex, while moving behind her. 

She took him, gasping, panting, til she almost wanted to beg him to stop and suddenly he stood them up. Her legs buckled and she almost went down but his arm around her waist held her up. He slipped out but then he thrust into her hard enough to take her breath. "Come on, Care," he growled. "Come on."

He did it again and her body spasmed and she almost sobbed with a pleasure that bordered on pain. 

Dean slipped out of her again and the sudden emptiness made her legs almost buckle once more. The only thing keeping her on her feet was Dean holding her against him. 

"Easy there," he caught her full weight, and maneuvered her over to the chair. She bent over it and he entered her again slowly. Her entire body lit with pleasure and he thrust into her with a steady pulsing motion until she felt like she was going to pass out holding onto the chair. She climaxed in a panting, nearly sobbing orgasm. 

Dean was right behind her with a few heavy snaps of his hips and a deep groan. The wet warmth of his orgasm made her whimper again before he slid out. Her legs shuddered and he swept her up like he was going to dance with her, pressing her close to his chest with an amused grin. They were both panting, Carrie struggling to catch her breath. Her hair was stuck to her face and skin. 

He gave her a self satisfied smile. "See? Quarantine is awesome."


End file.
